


48 Hours and 11 Regrets of Severus Snape

by slytherinsubmarine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunk Hermione Granger, Drunk Severus Snape, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, I'm Bad At Tagging, Post-War, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinsubmarine/pseuds/slytherinsubmarine
Summary: Severus Snape regrets a lot of things, but over the course of 48 hours, he found 11 more.Written for the Page 394 Discord Winter Holidays Celebration with the prompt word "Regrets."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81
Collections: Page 394 Discord Winter Holidays Celebration





	48 Hours and 11 Regrets of Severus Snape

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Regrets
> 
> Beta'd by [TheFrenchPress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFrenchPress/pseuds/TheFrenchPress) and [LemonTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Self_Indulgent_Nonsense/pseuds/Self_Indulgent_Nonsense)
> 
> And big thanks to [Jalepeno_Eye_Popper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_eye_popper/pseuds/jalapeno_eye_popper) for bouncing ideas with me!

What had he done? Oh Gods, what had he done? Severus’s mind raced as he stumbled into the entryway at Spinner’s End. How did he manage to apparate in one piece? He wasn’t quite sure yet. The door remained open as he stared at the blank wall in front of him, lost in his thoughts. His heart was racing in his chest. Thump. Thump. Thump Thump Thump. Thump. He needed to slow down, control his breathing. In five, out five. In five, out five. Severus turned to kick the door closed behind him when he realized his boots were missing. He must have forgotten them in his haste to get out of the situation as fast as possible. His hands shook as he carefully hung his outer-robe on the dingy coat rack. 

He stood still in the entryway, door now closed, and closed his eyes tightly. No one must know; no one would know. How had a simple Order get together gotten that out of control? It wasn’t his fault. Was it his fault? No, no, don’t go down that route. Shower; he needed a shower. The best thoughts always come in the shower, right? It was just an added benefit to wash away the remnants of his regrets.

Severus stood still in the entryway for another half minute, still staring at his boot-less feet. Would he ever get his best dragonhide boots back? They had taken years to break in just the way he liked. Were they lost for good? Severus shook his head twice, trying to clear the cacophony of thoughts that plagued his mind. One step at a time, but his knees felt so weak. Right, left. Right, Left. Thank the Gods; there’s the bathroom door.

Severus toed off his socks as he turned to look at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t the best looking, by far, but he wasn’t the worst. Severus watched as his thin fingers moved to unbutton the four buttons on his shirt's right sleeve. Then the left. He paused for a moment, taking in his reflection. Severus’ hair was a mess, the buttons on his shirt off by two, and a bruise peeked out behind the collar of his shirt. He sighed heavily before continuing. 

All of the breath left his chest as Severus unbuttoned the last button of his once pristine white shirt, now a wrinkled mess. By the Gods, that witch left her mark. Repeatedly. “One, two three...thirty-nine,” Severus whispered hoarsely as he counted the different marks on his body. She was bright and almost as meticulous as he was. Thirteen bite marks, thirteen hickeys, and thirteen scratch marks covered his torso. 

Severus flicked his wrist, starting the shower to warm up as he continued to undress. He fumbled with the button to his trousers, still in slight shock from the state of his body after one drunken night. Severus slowly unzipped the wrinkled garment, careful not to catch himself since apparently, he had lost his underwear as well. Severus kicked them off with a disgruntled sigh. “For fucks sake…” He grumbled as he struggled to get his leg out.

Severus slipped into the shower, content with the temperature of the water. He let the back of his head hit the wall as he slid to the floor. He needed to make a list that would calm him—a list of regrets from the past 48 hours.

**The First Regret: Meeting The Golden Trio for Lunch**

12 Grimmauld Place had changed drastically since the last time Severus had passed the threshold. The first observation he had made was the bright red door, how very Gryffindor, and directly after, he had noticed the obnoxiously large lion’s head door knocker. How extremely Gryffindor. Thwap, Thwap. His fist still hung in the air as the door swung open to reveal a taller, still messy-haired, smiling Harry Potter with a drooling baby on his hip. 

“Severus! You made it!” Potter exclaimed, his green eyes almost twinkling in the same way that the late Albus Dumbledore’s did. “Obviously.” Severus raised a single eyebrow towards the boy, who took a step aside to let him in. “Ron and ‘Mione are in the kitchen now. Ginny is at practice, and Molly couldn’t take Al; I hope you don’t mind,” Harry rattled on as they made their way down the hall. The once dark and gloomy house was now bright, colorful, and no longer bore the Black family on the walls. Severus grunted non-committedly in the appropriate pauses, letting Harry lead the way.

Upon entering the kitchen, the three were met with a nostalgic sound as the two, now adults, bantered back and forth. “Oh, Ronald! Seriously?” Hermione exclaimed as she stirred a pot on the stove. Her once bushy head of hair now flowed down her back in pristine curls, and her body had filled out nicely after the year she had spent in the woods. Severus snapped his eyes away from her rear as she turned, cheeks red, to continue her conversation with Weasley. “I’m just sayin’ ‘Mione. The recipe is a guideline.” Ron ran a hand through his shaggy hair and shrugged his shoulders. Like he had been as a child, he was still lanky but appeared to have gained some muscle mass throughout the years.

“Oh, you’re here! I didn’t even hear you arrive, Professor.” Hermione turned towards Severus, waving the spoon about as she spoke. “I’m no longer a professor, Miss Granger.” His cheeks reddened ever so slightly as he averted his eyes from her breasts; she had filled out in a womanly way. “Severus, then?” The way his name came out of her mouth made his cheeks heat more so than before. “Very well, Miss Granger.” He inclined his head slightly, kicking himself on the inside for almost stumbling over his words. She was a former student. One-third of the Golden Trio. Off-limits. “Hermione, I insist!” she exclaimed as she turned back to stir. His eyes wandered around to her tight jeans before Potter interrupted him with more incessant speaking.

**The Second Regret: Agreeing to Attend**

Potter sat at the head of the table, where years ago his godfather had once sat. To his left was his squabbling little demon child in a highchair; food covered his hands, face, and shirt. Next to the child was Weasley, who was eating similarly. Severus sat to the right of Potter, glancing over at Hermione every few seconds. She raised a spoonful of soup to her mouth, blowing on it gently. How he would love for her to bl-no. His thoughts continued to run through his head as he ate mechanically. 

How soft would her skin be under his fingertips? The view of Hermione’s nimble fingers wrapped around the spoon made it easy to imagine her on her knees in front of him. Were these terrible thoughts? Her tongue peeked out, testing the temperature of her soup. She was an adult now, after all. The war had ended years ago. Would her back arch as she came?

“What do you think, Severus? Will you come?” Hermione’s voice cut through his daydreaming. “Yes.” The word came out of Severus’s mouth before he had processed that it was Hermione sitting beside him that was asking and not the one he had envisioned. “Great!” Potter half-yelled; Weasley glanced up but quickly went back to eating. “It’ll start at 9 o’clock on the 31st. I’ll owl you the specifics,” Potter continued, oblivious to the shock on Severus’s face. Great. What had he agreed to? 

**The Third Regret: Arriving**

Severus’s pocket watch read 8:57 as he stood on the porch to 12 Grimmauld Place. The owl that had arrived that morning had said it was formal muggle attire, though he neglected to follow that rule. 8:58. Should he use the knocker? He wouldn’t put it past Potter to have enchanted it to roar obnoxiously. 8:59 found Severus raising his first to the door, faltering as he heard the voices approaching from behind him. 

“Oh! Severus, you’re here!” Minerva exclaimed as she stepped onto the first step. “I thought Harry was pulling my leg when he said you were coming,” Filius added as he stood at the bottom of the stoop. “I don’t plan on staying long,” Severus replied as he finally let his fist rap against the door. Within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Ginerva and Harry Potter. “You’re early, perfect! You can help us set up.” 

Severus couldn’t help but groan aloud at the prospect, causing the others to laugh.

**The Fourth Regret: Migrating Near Hermione**

The party was in full swing and about as dignified as one would assume a Gryffindor end of year party would be. Severus found himself surrounded by people he knew, or instead, once knew. There were old students, coworkers, and Order members that seemed to stream by with different variations of the same message continually. Yes, he knew. They were thankful for all he had done—surprised to see him. He looked better than he did before, perhaps because he was no longer serving two masters and wearing himself thin. 

He let himself linger close to the table of drinks, refilling his glass when it emptied for almost an hour. He was glad to have snagged a couple of Hangover Potions on his way out of the lab that morning. His eyes darted around, observing the room with a sneer on his face. If he had to deal with one more dunderhead, he might explode. He needed someone intellectual. He scanned the room once more, looking for the girl that had been invading his mind as of late. He stopped his eyes on her over by the fire.

Severus pushed himself off the wall, stumbling slightly as the toe of his boot caught the curling corner of a rug. Severus took a look down at his attire, wishing he had gone with fewer layers. He was roasting away in his robes from the warmth of the fire and fast approaching the couch directly in front of it. He paused for a second to shrug out of his outer-robe and loosen his tie, leaving him in a crisp white button-down shirt and black waistcoat.

She sat with her feet curled under her, lazily staring at the fire. Severus watched her for a moment before clearing his throat, startling her in the process. “Severus, sorry I didn’t pop by to say hello earlier. I noticed you had quite the fan club lingering around.” Hermione giggled with the last sentence. Did it amuse her to see him uncomfortable? Severus shook his head, barely rolling his eyes before taking a seat next to her. “Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. Every conversation was identical. I feel my brain has gone to...mush?” His words only slightly slurred; he was proud of himself.

Her smile lit up her whole face, and the glow of the fire seemed to radiate her beauty even more. She turned towards Severus, shifting her entire body to face his. The tips of her toes gently stroked the fabric of his trousers, and it distracted him immensely. “Huh?” Severus shook his head, looking back up at her eyes. “I said, would you like to hear about the charm I’m developing for my apprenticeship?” Her toes still stroked his leg as he lazily nodded his head.

**The Fifth Regret: Getting Another Drink**

“So, you’re looking into refining Wingardium to harvest plants in a faster way?” Severus slurred out as he rubbed Hermione’s foot. How he ended up rubbing her feet, he did not remember. “Essentially, yes.” She curled her toes as his thumb pressed into the arch of her foot, letting out a soft groan. “Oh, right there.” He felt her words go straight to his crotch. At that moment, Severus wished he had kept his robes on. “With no negative effects to the ingredients?” His voice cracked slightly, a mixture of the alcohol and his still damaged vocal cords. He continued to rub her foot, hoping for another sound of appreciation, as he listened to her soft words. 

“My glass is empty, and I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I had hoped to be at this point,” Hermione grumbled out as she began to slip her feet out of his lap. Severus sighed, patting her leg before speaking. “Is that a hint that you’d like me to grab you another?” A sheepish smile graced Hermione’s lips as she nodded her head. Was that a blush? Severus blinked slowly before pushing himself up to stand, head spinning. His hand shot out to stabilize himself on the back of the couch. “My knight in shining armor.” His cheeks reddened as he turned to make his way back to the drink table, grabbing them both another glass of the spiked punch.

**The Sixth Regret: Flirting Back**

Severus sat on the couch, Hermione on the floor in front of him. She was pulling her hair up; it smelled of lilac and cloves. Damn his potion master nose; he’d remember this smell for the rest of his life. “Are you sure, Severus? You really don’t have to.” He took another deep breath as she secured the knot with her wand. “I’m doing this only so you stop complaining about your neck pains and continue explaining your trials with the charm.” Severus was too far gone to care about the slurring of his words. He figured this must be how Gryffindors feel all of the time with how bold he was acting. “Well, in that case, I have a few other spots that need attention,” Hermione practically whispered. She must have forgotten how well Severus could hear.

Severus leaned down, his breath ghosting her ear, “Perhaps after the neck rub, witch.” He dropped his voice down an octave, hoping it would hit Hermione where her words had hit him. She visibly shivered as he sat back up straight, his hands quickly finding the knots on her neck. His thumb pressed into a tough spot and swirled in circles as she continued to speak of her project. Severus resisted the urge to lean down and bite the soft flesh beneath his fingers. 

“You’re quite skilled with your hands, Severus.” Once again, her words sent a shiver down his spine and a jolt to his crotch. “Here, I thought you were just skilled with potions.” Hermione tilted her head to the side, giving him more access. “There are a few other talents I could demonstrate for you, Hermione.” 

“I’d say the neck rub is done then,” Hermione confidently stated as she let her head fall back onto the worn sofa. She looked up at Severus, her head resting between his legs, with one eyebrow raised similarly to his signature look. “Lead the way then.” 

**The Seventh Regret: Following Hermione to Her Room**

“How are we going about this?” Severus asked from his spot on the couch, openly admiring the straight shot down Hermione’s shirt. “Well,” She started as she twirled a curl of hair around her finger. “I could meet you on the stairs in five minutes?” Hermione sucked her bottom lip in, chewing on the skin while Severus debated her idea. His body was telling him, the sooner, the better; what little logic he had left was screaming at him to be discreet. “Which bedroom is yours? I could meet you there.” He finally tore his eyes away from her breasts. “Third floor, third door on the left.” Severus nodded his head before scanning the room. Plenty of people were missing; the two of them would not be missed.

“What if you gave me something to hang on the doorknob? Like your tie?” She pushed herself forward, turning towards Severus. “Like some randy teenagers?” He spat back, not realizing the sneer that formed on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes before standing up, towering over him where he sat. “Just give me your tie, Severus.” She held her hand out demandingly with a soft glare. 

“You’re an insufferable little minx,” he sneered at her, in the nicest way possible, and loosened his tie even more. He slipped the dark gray fabric over his head, admiring the single snake showcasing a hiss embroidered into the fabric. He watched her walk away, eyes glued to her shapely rear. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, before surveying the room once again. The drink table was clear of lingering drunk fools. Perhaps he could use another drink to settle his nerves. Did he need another drink? 

Severus stumbled as he pushed himself up to stand, again catching himself on the back of the couch. One more drink wouldn’t hurt. He watched his own feet as he traveled across the room, not noticing the shoulders he was bumping on the way. The corner of the rug almost tripped Severus once again. He turned to glare at the woven monstrosity as if that would cause it to cease tripping him. 

After half of the said drink, or was it a drink and a half? Severus made his way to the still rickety stairs of 12 Grimmauld place. “Third floor, third door on the right,” he repeated to himself as he carefully took each step. “Grey snake tie. Doorknob,” he added as he reached the second floor. Huffing out each breath, Severus paused to lean against the wall. Were there always this many stairs? He needed a break. Was that a painting of Lupin and Nymphadora? Severus waved back to the painting, a scowl resting on his face. 

Finally, He reached the third floor and was silently cheering in triumph. “Third floor, check. Third door on the right, grey snake tie,” he mumbled to himself as he leaned against the wall for support. “Aha!” Severus quietly exclaimed as he looked to the door. Was this the fourth door? Oh well, Severus thought, there’s the grey tie with two intertwining snakes. He took a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and turned the knob as he exhaled.

Severus’s eyebrow automatically raised as he took in the sight before him. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.” He whispered to himself as he attempted to close the door quietly. He did not want to witness that. He did not need to know what the Potters and his godson got up to during their free time. But why was Draco on a leash? Nevermind. He turned in a full circle, wondering if he had been set up before the image of his gray tie with a single snake entered his mind. Severus shook his head, still trying to purge the image of what he had just witnessed. He took another deep breath as he approached the third door on the left with a grey tie hanging from the doorknob, exhaling as he pushed the door open.

**The Eighth Regret: Kissing Her**

The room was dark except for one strip of light that came out of, what Severus assumed was, the bathroom door. He took three long strides before meeting the edge of the bed where she sat. Severus’s hands reached out to tangle in her hair at the base of her neck, pulling her up to stand. “Tell me,” he said softly as he gazed into her eyes. 

“Kiss me, Severus.”

The Ninth Regret: Pulling Out, He’d Much Rather Have Stayed Inside of Her

He tightened his grip on her hair as his pace quickened, thrusting in and out of her. The moans that came out of Hermione were what finally pushed him over the edge. With one final thrust, he spilled his seed deep inside of her with a heavy groan. Severus let his forehead softly fall to Hermione’s as he panted. He could feel the slick layer of sweat covering both of them.

With one final groan, he pulled out of her and flopped down onto the bed. Though it had only been a handful of seconds, he missed the feeling of her around him. 

**The Tenth Regret: Staying**

“Stay,” Hermione whispered as she laid in the dark next to him. He’d never stayed before; this was new territory to him. Did it mean anything? Did it mean the same to her as it did him? By the time he had returned from his inner turmoil, Hermione was fast asleep. She laid facing away from him at this point, her body curled. He sighed heavily before grabbing his wand off the bedside table and summoning the blanket. 

He rolled onto his side, tucked his arm around her, and pulled her to his chest before falling asleep.

**The Eleventh Regret: Leaving Before She Awoke**

Severus awoke with a jolt, eyes springing open suddenly, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. His head was throbbing. He heard the soft breaths next to him and looked over to see a mess of curls. It was just a dream; the war was over. He laid still for another second before summoning the Hangover Potion he had brought, uncorked the bottle, and drank its entire contents in one gulp. 

The realization of what he had done started to filter into his brain as the hangover fog lifted. “Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered to himself as he carefully rolled away from the woman and extricated himself from Hermione’s bed. Severus rubbed his face with two hands as he decided what his next move should be.

He dressed quickly before leaving a single bottle of Hangover Potion on her nightstand.

Back in the present, Severus sighed as he wrenched his eyes open, the water of his shower now running cold. His hands shook as he reached to turn the spray off. Severus wondered if he left now, would he be able to make it back with breakfast before she awoke? Could he pull that off?


End file.
